Fairytaleish | The Last Krystallos

The word for Five Sentence Fiction this week is: Pirates and if anyone remembers my Faerypin entry: Waiting, (Please read for full story) they’ll know there’s a pirate story still to be told: This is the conclusion…

Pirates of the Caribbean – On Stranger Tides movie poster

He promised to return; he left his gun and blade and she said she’d wait, and as his ship sailed, he watched her standing alone on the shore, wishing he was holding her cheek to his, her salty hair shining with a halo of gold against the rising sun and her skirts, heavy with broad leaf weed, hiding her new, long legs, still shimmering with reminiscent scales…

Unhurried, his ship traversed the waves, the ocean slapping her wooden hull, and he watched as she disappeared behind the cliffs; one last quest and he’d be hers.

As he stepped away from the bulwark his feet froze as her voice, clear and pure rose over the boom of the sea…her song, keen and true…and tears slipped down his weathered face as his band of buccaneers paused, unable to bear his siren’s song.

He could never resist the plaintive call of his lover and moments later the depths had claimed the hearts of all and his boat lay abandoned in the neighbouring cove.

For years she would wait…and sing…until the day the waiting deep would welcome her return.

This is my story for a fairytaleish contest hosted by Anna over at Yearning for Wonderland so here’s my picture and story in 299 words:

Source: authenticfauxhemian.tumblr.com via Pinterest then tracked back to original photographer Loreta loretablog.blogspot.co.uk

The Coat

“Please…don’t hurt me!” she begged, her soft -grey eyes widening in fear.

Clutching her basket tightly in her red-gloved hands she pressed her spine into the tree, but the towering man still advanced.

“That’s my brother’s coat you’re wearing.” Bitterness coated his words. “Where did you get it?”

She tensed, swallowing hard but not moving her eyes from his.

“I said, where’d you get it?” He repeated, venom spitting from his thin lips.

She shook her head.

“Answer me girl!” His voice rose booming through the silence of the wintry forest. “My brother’s gone…and you’ve got his coat! How did you get it?”

She licked her lips and spoke, almost inaudibly. “He…he gave it to me.”

“He what? He gave it to you! Foolish answer girl, he loved that coat!” He leered. “Spent many a night out with him and that coat…”

“It’s mine,” she began with defiance tinging her small voice.

“Yours? I don’t think so!” he barked at her.

She bent placing her basket on the floor and crossed her arms over the heavy, woollen coat, pulling its softness protectively around her tiny frame. A languid smile spread across his scarred face and he leaned in close. His breath, stinking of chewed tobacco, made her glare and he took a golden curl in his coarse fingers. “I think…I want that coat back.”

As he twirled her hair she met his lascivious gaze and smiled. “And I think I want yours.” Her voice was barely a whisper yet it chilled him and he tried to step back.

The altercation was skilled and quick, and not a moment later he lay dead and bloody, his brother’s grey, woollen coat his shroud. She pulled his leather jacket about her shoulders and replaced her scarlet gloves, deftly concealing her razor-sharp talons.

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